


One Centimeter

by zeldadestry



Category: La Femme Nikita
Genre: Community: 100_women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-11
Updated: 2006-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A centimeter can be of the greatest importance, can mean the difference between life and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Centimeter

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 011, 'Only', for 100_women fanfic Challenge

There is a ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter and as Elena and Nikita sweep into the room, stripping off their coats and hats and scarves, Elena drops her rings into it.

"Would you like some tea?" Elena asks, smoothing her hair back with her hands.

"Sure," Nikita says, leaning against the counter and tracing her finger around the lip of the blue and white bowl.

"Isn't it pretty? Michael brought it back for me when he went to Italy recently."

"He must miss you when he travels." Elena is filling the kettle, and they are both silent as the water runs. Elena puts the stove on, returns to Nikita's side. Reaching into the bowl, she withdraws one of her rings. It is a gold band, engraved with flowers, and she holds it up, shows Nikita the words on the inside. "I keep you, keep me," she reads out loud.

"It's an antique," Elena explains. "I like those old-fashioned expressions of love. He brought that home from a business trip to London. He always brings me something home. He travels too much, I tell him I don't want all that jewelry, but he doesn't listen."

"Are these all from him?"

"Yes. He feels guilty. I want to have another baby, but only if he could be home more often. His job means so much to him, though, and I hate the thought of him giving it up and then resenting me for it."

Strange and sudden, Nikita thinks of Madeline. Madeline must watch the tapes, occasionally, because surely this house is under constant surveillance. She imagines that Madeline probably despises Elena, who is too gentle, too guileless, to be of any use at Section. It's impossible to imagine Elena in the world of Section, just as it's impossible to imagine Madeline in Elena's world, as wife and mother. Nikita belongs in neither realm. She is not a creature of war, nor one of home and hearth.

She has a heart, though, she has a heart that can encompass all of this, her own losses, Michael's losses. She grieves for Elena, who does not know that her life is only a dream, about to undergo a cruel descent into nightmare.

When Michael bought this ring, did he think of Elena, or of Nikita, or even Simone? Is there some place inside him where the women all overlap, where his feelings are the same? For Michael must love Elena, even if that love's source is pity rather than desire.

"He would never resent you," Nikita says, finally, because she feels she must say something. "He loves you."

"It's good to have you here, Nikita. It's not as lonely." The kettle's whistling, and she goes to take it off the heat, to prepare their tea. "If only Michael could be home more often," she says.

After all Michael has been through, Nikita knows that this life could never really offer him solace. Elena could not understand or accept what he has done in order to survive, or in the name of the greater good, or to save those he cares for, Nikita included.

Simone knew about Elena. Simone understood, Michael said. Nikita knows, now, but she does not understand. She does not accept it.

It has never been for her own sake that she rejects Section. It has never been for her own sake, or even for Michael's. It is on behalf of people like Elena, beautiful and kind, yet considered utterly expendable. Elena has no value as a human being to them. All that matters is that they can use her as bait to eliminate her father.

It is raining, now, and the room has darkened under the gathering clouds. Her heart still levitates slightly at the sight of rain, as it always has, even when she lived on the street and had to rush to find an overhang to stand under. She has always found shelter, doing her best with what is available. Now her hands wrap around the warm mug, she bends her face over it so that the steam rises to reach her skin.

She did not create the system, and she did not drop Elena into it. She is here, and Elena is here, and she will do her damnedest for Elena with what she has to offer.

"Do you believe in Karma?" Elena asked, shortly after they met.

"No," Nikita said. What she believes is what they taught her when she first arrived at Section. It was drilled into them, over and over, how much of a difference a centimeter can make, when firing a gun, when defusing an explosive, when planting a tracking device, when performing all the duties of their missions. A centimeter can be of the greatest importance, can mean the difference between life and death.

All she has is one centimeter, a small space in which she can act, make a difference. She can not save Elena from Section. She can not make Elena's marriage real and bring Michael home to stay and grant her another child. No, she can do nothing but this, just this, sit here and drink her tea and smile when Elena smiles. The comfort she offers to Elena is true, her sympathy is deep. Though everything else be a lie, there is nothing false in her feelings.

Not even Section can strip that away.


End file.
